


Let's Be Alone Together, We Can Stay Young Forever

by hilourry



Series: You And I [1]
Category: One Direction
Genre: A lot of sex, AU, Blowjobs, Comeplay, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Fluff, Hair Pulling, M/M, Prostitution, Riding, Rimming, SugarBaby!Louis, That's it, angry, bottom!Louis, harry's rich, louis is a prostitute, rough, sugardaddy!Harry, they use a champagne bottle as a dildo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:16:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hilourry/pseuds/hilourry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m sure they were all pathetic old men with failing marriages, am I wrong? So, I did you a favor, really,” Harry says, giving him a shit eating grin. Louis can’t argue with that, but would never admit that to Harry. He scans over him and sees the gold band on his left ring finger.</p><p>“Married, huh? Maybe you aren’t much better than my other clients,” Louis sneers.</p><p>“Well, I’ve got to at least be better looking then them, with a bigger dick, I’m sure. Now, you’re pretty when you don’t talk, so let’s get those clothes off of you and put you to work, hmm?”</p><p>or</p><p>Harry Styles is a millionaire in the 50's who owns hotels in Europe. Louis is a prostitute and they accidentally fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Be Alone Together, We Can Stay Young Forever

26-year-old Harry Styles is the son of Robert Styles, the man who owns 5-star hotels all over Europe. The Styles’ were one of the richest families of the 1950’s, and once Robert passed away, Harry had to take over. He was probably the youngest millionaire in the world, but he was ready for that challenge. He’s intelligent and strategic about his business and it’s been doing even better than it was when his father was around.

Even with all of his money and fortune, he’s not exactly happy. He’s been married to his wife, Emily, for four years and already it feels like they’ve hit rock bottom. There’s always an uncomfortable amount of tension between the two and they barely make eye contact anymore, but Harry shrugs it off. He’s got his business to worry about and can’t be bothered with dealing with that can of worms just yet.

He’s heard through the grape vine that the staff at his hotel in London hasn’t been very friendly, so he decided to go check for himself. He knew Emily wouldn’t mind him leaving for a weekend because she would have the house all to herself and he wouldn’t be there to make it awkward. Hell, Harry couldn’t wait for the train to drop him off in London to get away from that house. 

He walks into the hotel with his bag in his hand, smiling at everyone. He grabs the room key from the front desk and puts his bags away in the hotel room he always stays in whenever he needs to come for business. He goes back downstairs to the lobby and observes his staff, making sure everything is running smoothly. 

He looks over at the bar and sees a man, maybe a few years younger than him, sitting next to some older bloke. His small, dainty hand is on the man’s forearm, his head thrown back in an obvious fake laugh. He’s wearing a dangerously low cut white t-shirt, his collarbones jutting out and his trousers skin tight, slightly rolled up at the ankles. He shifts in his seat slightly, liking what he’s seeing. 

Harry gets up, walking over to the front desk to go talk to the manager to distract himself. The man sitting at the bar watches him get up and looks at his tall, lean frame. He knows that’s Harry Styles, and he knows this is his hotel, but he’s even more gorgeous in person than he is in the newspapers. He tries not to stare too much and focuses on his client in front of him. God, he’s got to be at least 45 years old. And those teeth, gross. Fuck, it’s going to be a long night, Louis thinks. 

Harry walks over to the manager, Rick, and puts his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, everything going all right?” he asks.

“Oh, Mr. Styles, you’re here already,” Rick says, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants before shaking Harry’s hand. “Y-yeah, everything is just fine, sir. Anything I can get you?”

“No, I’m fine. Just watching for now,” Harry smiles a little, leaning over the counter and looks at the boy at the bar again. He looks at Harry for a second, but turns away quickly. Harry bites his lip and shakes his head. 

“How is your wife, sir?” Rick asks and Harry tenses up.

“She’s fine. She’s got some book club thing going on at the house this weekend with her girlfriends,” Harry shrugs, eyeing the boy at the bar again. He’s never actually fooled around with another guy before because, really, no one in that time did. If two men were a couple, it was looked down upon. Harry had thought about it plenty of times before, sure, but never gotten a chance to act upon it. The boy with the blue eyes looks like he knows how to make a man feel good, and Harry’s mind starts to wonder.

He watches the two men get up and the older guy puts his hand on the small of the other man’s back. The pretty one looks tired and frustrated and seconds away from rolling his eyes and pushing the man away. They walk towards the stairs and disappear and Harry sighs, trying to focus on the job he needs to work on.  
~  
It continues like that for the past few days. That pretty boy is always sitting at the bar with another man. What he doesn’t know is that the pretty boy is looking right back at Harry, discreetly of course. Clearly, Louis stays here quite often, so he wants to find out if any of his employees know about him.

“Hey, Joe,” Harry greets one of the bellboys.

“Hello, Mr. Styles,” Joe smiles nervously, giving him an awkward bow to which Harry just chuckles. His father had these guys trained to a T. 

“I was just wondering if you know that guy at the bar,” Harry asks lowly, tilting his head towards the bar.

“The one with the maroon shirt?” Joe asks, his eyebrows scrunched up together. 

“Yeah, that one. Ever since I got here he’s been sitting at the bar. Just wondering if you knew anything about him,” Harry says, hoping his voice isn’t giving him away. 

“Yeah. That’s Louis Tomlinson, he’s a, uh, you know, men pay to get him,” Joe says, hinting towards what he really means.

“You mean men pay to have sex with him,” Harry says bluntly, and Joe nods, his cheeks red. 

“Um, basically. I heard he’s expensive because he’s like, high-end of whatever,” Joe explains and Harry nods.

“Okay, thanks,” Harry smiles and walks away. Joe is clearly confused, but shakes it off and goes back to work. 

Harry thinks about Louis the entire day. He feels somewhat satisfied now that he finally knows his name, but now he knows he would have a shot with him. Money is no issue for him, so he might as well go for it. After Louis walks off with yet another older man, Harry walks to the bartender. 

“Hey, do you how to get Louis Tomlinson for a night?” Harry asks lowly. 

“Louis Tomlinson? I’m his boss, actually, but Louis is booked for the night, mate. Sorry,” the bartender shrugs, wiping down the counter.

“Listen, I’ll pay off any of those other guys. Whole night,” Harry offers, his voice low. The bartender raises his eyebrows and puts down the rag. 

“Oh, really?”  
~  
Louis sighs as he walks out of his last client’s room. He’s exhausted and feels disgusting and he just wants to go to his room but he can’t because he’s got three more clients. His boss Liam stops him in the hallway.

“Lou, go to room 103,” Liam instructs.

“What? I thought I was going to 216?” 

“You were, but someone just got you for the entire night. He paid a lot, so I wouldn’t question it. He must be out of his mind or desperate to need you right this minute,” Liam rolls his eyes. Louis lets out a sigh and nods.

“Alright, fine. Thanks,” Louis mutters, turning and walking down the opposite side of the hallway. He’s sure this guy will be old and pathetic with a failing marriage and Louis isn’t really in the mood for that right now. 

He drags himself to 103, sucking in a breath before knocking on the door. His whole body is already sore from the two men before this one, but now he’s got to deal with this bastard the entire night. When the door swings open and Harry Styles is standing there, Louis almost falls to his knees. 

“You must be Louis Tomlinson. Very nice to meet you,” Harry grins, holding out a hand. Louis looks at it and scoffs.

“You’re about to fuck me and you’re giving me a handshake?” 

“Fair enough,” Harry murmurs, clearly amused. Louis steps inside the hotel room, trying not to let his nerves show. Being a sassy little shit was one of his many strengths, so he knew he could do this if he just put on a façade and pretended not to be into this incredibly handsome, rich man. 

Harry sits on the couch underneath the window, grabbing a bottle of scotch and pouring it into a short glass. “So, we gonna get started, then?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“You paid all this money for me, which, by the way, is stupid, and you’re going to get drunk?” Louis crosses his arms, ragging on him.

“You’re cute,” Harry grins, taking a sip from his glass. “How about you get undressed and ride me or something? Make yourself useful. I did pay a whole lot for ya.”

“Again, that was stupid. I had three other clients,” Louis informs him.

“I’m sure they were all pathetic old men with failing marriages, am I wrong? So, I did you a favor, really,” Harry says, giving him a shit eating grin. Louis can’t argue with that, but would never admit that to Harry. He scans over him and sees the gold band on his left ring finger.

“Married, huh? Maybe you aren’t much better than my other clients,” Louis sneers.

“Well, I’ve got to at least be better looking then them, with a bigger dick, I’m sure. Now, you’re pretty when you don’t talk, so let’s get those clothes off of you and put you to work, hmm?”

Louis hates to realize it, but this aggressiveness is a massive turn on for him. He usually likes being in full control, but this guy is hot and it’s Harry Styles for Christ’s sake, so he’ll make a small exception. That, of course, doesn’t mean he won’t continue to make jabs at him and try to rile him up even further. 

“Whatever you want, master,” Louis mutters sarcastically.

“I don’t think I paid for role play,” Harry glares, smirking and taking another sip of his scotch. 

“What a bargain you got, then,” Louis mocks, pulling off his t-shirt. He reveals his tan upper body and Harry is completely endeared by his tiny, pudgy tummy. “Is that drool?” Louis teases, poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth briefly. Harry just grins and takes another sip. 

“Maybe. Go on, then. Let me see all of you,” Harry encourages. Louis slowly unzips himself, tossing his pants and underwear off and putting his hands on his slim waist. 

“Your turn, big guy.”

Harry smirks and finishes off his drink and puts it on the table next to him. He unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off, showing off his toned, muscular body and Louis has to force himself not to drool all over him. 

“How about you do the rest for me?” Harry suggests, lightly palming himself through his black pants, then filling up his glass again. Louis sighs exasperatedly, pretending to be completely annoyed with him when really, he can’t wait to get fucked by him.

Louis drops to his knees in front of Harry, unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them, pulling them down just enough to let his cock spring out. Louis can’t help lick his lips at the sight of him, he’s long and thick and he’s so fucking fit. He sucks the tip into his mouth, sliding his tongue around the fat head. Harry hums happily, tangling a hand lazily in his soft hair and stroking his cheek with his thumb.

“Look filthy. You want my big cock so bad,” he grins, poking at his cheek. Louis looks up at him and rolls his eyes, wrapping his small hand around the base and popping off. 

“We’re quite full of ourselves, aren’t we?” Louis says sarcastically. 

“Hey, I paid a lot of money. I think I should be able to talk the way I want, no? Besides, I’m not wrong,” Harry gives him an arrogant grin, tugging at the hair at the base of his neck. “Go ahead, finish what you started.”

Louis wants to say something, but bites his tongue and gets back to work. He hallows out his cheeks and sucks around Harry’s cock, pulling him in deep and bobbing his back up and down quickly, occasionally twisting his head. 

“Thata boy,” Harry murmurs, grinning and pouring himself another drink. Louis comes up for air and flicks his hair out of his face before locking eyes with his client. 

“Have anything?” Louis asks, standing up.

“Mhm, prepared already,” Harry grins, pulling a bottle of lube and a condom from the table next to his scotch. Louis straddles Harry’s waist and takes the bottle from his fingers and rips open the condom packet with his teeth. 

“Let’s get this over with so I can get away from you,” Louis mutters, trying to prove to Harry that he doesn’t want him at all but he knows deep down he really, really does. Harry squawks at that, holding his small waist with his large hands.

“Don’t act like you don’t want me. You’re a shit liar,” Harry murmurs, nipping at Louis’ neck. Louis bites his lip and tries shaking him off.

“Whatever you say, Styles. I really just want to go to bed, okay?” Louis says, rolling the condom onto Harry’s large member.  
“I believe I bought you for an entire night, love,” Harry reminds him, giving him a quick slap on his ass. Louis glares at him and slicks him up with lube. 

“Listen, Mr. Look At How Much Money I Have, I’ve had a long fucking day and I just want to sleep when we’re through,” Louis snaps. Harry holds his hands up in surrender and looks him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, your slutty highness,” Harry sneers. Louis grits his teeth, pushing back all the fondness he has for this handsome fuckface. 

Louis doesn’t need the prep, since he was already with two men before this one. His body is sore and he wants Harry so badly but everything is so complicated and he just really needs a bath and a cup of tea. 

He sighs deeply and lifts onto his knees, grabbing Harry’s cock and slowly sinking down onto him. His jaw clenches at the new sensation. Even though he’s had his fair share of dick, Harry’s probably the biggest he’s had, and definitely the hottest guy. And god, his eyes are really pretty. But that’s not the point, because he hates Harry and his stupid, pretty eyes. 

“Such a good slut you are, Lou. Taking it well,” Harry hums, watching the younger boy slide down inch by inch, his face contorted in both pleasure and a little bit of pain. Louis wants to say something snarky in reply, but he can’t find any words at this moment. He braces his hands on Harry’s shoulders and rolls his neck, bottoming out and taking a deep breath to recollect himself. 

On the tip of Harry’s tongue, he has hundreds of comments to say, but Louis looks like he’s in ecstasy. He does sort of feel bad for Louis, so he lets him have this. Louis starts to bounce his hips lightly, his eyes closed with his eyelashes fanning out across his pretty cheekbones. Harry takes the moment to really take a good look at how truly beautiful Louis is and how he definitely wouldn’t mind paying more money to get him every night he possibly could.

Louis lightly drags his fingernails down Harry’s chest, short breathy moans falling from his lips. Harry circles his hips underneath him, helping him out. Louis sighs in approval, tossing his head back a little. Harry leans in and sucks a bruise onto his neck, surprising Louis. Louis gasps but doesn’t push him off, just grabs his head and runs his fingers through the unruly curls. 

“H-Harry,” Louis moans, his movements getting lazy. Harry knows he’s getting tired, so without pulling out, he lays Louis on the leather couch and wraps Louis’ legs around his waist. 

“Better?” he mumbles into the younger boys neck and Louis just nods. Harry thrusts in deep, slamming into his prostate and making Louis cry out. Harry bites down on the skin then licks over it, running his large hand up his torso and giving one of Louis’ nipples a tweak. 

“Jesus,” Louis breathes, biting down on his lip hard. 

“Close?” Harry mumbles into his ear, his thrusts becoming slower and shallow. 

“Y-yeah,” Louis stutters, his fringe sticking to his forehead with sweat. With only a few more thrusts, Louis is sobbing and coming hard onto their torsos. Harry isn’t far behind, dumping inside of him. He pulls out slowly and watches Louis carefully. Harry gets up silently, pulls off the condom and gets a cloth to clean them off, but by the time he gets back, Louis is already sleeping. Well, Harry thinks, he did pay for a full night, so he might as well let him crash here. 

Harry picks him up, careful not to wake him, laying him on the bed and covering him with the sheets. Harry lies on the other side of him, curling into the blankets and looks over at Louis. He truly looks exhausted and spent and he can only imagine what kind of shit he goes through on a daily basis with this job. Even though Louis is clearly a sassy little shit, he knows deep down he’s probably a great person with a big personality. For the first time in a while, Harry completely forgets all about the shit he’s got to get done and the lonely life he needs to return to. 

When Harry wakes up the next day, it’s in an empty bed. There’s no note, but he’s sure Louis wanted to get out of there as soon as he woke up. Or maybe he had a client already, which is an unsettling thought. Harry yawns and gets up to shower before he has to get through another day of checking on the hotel and file some more paperwork.  
~  
Louis gets back to his room and heads straight for the shower to go clear his head. He had never slept in a client’s room before, and he definitely overstayed. He clenches his jaw and scrubbed at his body quickly, trying to wash off the feeling of disgust. Whatever the hell last night was could not happen again, so he’s thrilled that it’s over. Feelings are not an option in this business and he needed to move past it. 

By the time he gets out of the shower and gets changed, the phone in his room is ringing.

“Hello?” he answers sweetly.

“Lou, hey, it’s Liam. Listen, that Harry Styles bloke just booked you again for the whole night, so be in his room by seven tonight,” Liam informs him.

“What? Are you kidding me? What’s wrong with this guy?” Louis asks, running a hand through his wet hair. 

“Can’t be that bad, though? You’re making more than you do normally and this guy definitely isn’t as old or ugly as some of the others,” Liam says halfheartedly. 

“I suppose. Want to get breakfast?” Louis sighs.

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you downstairs in fifteen minutes.”  
~  
On Louis’ way to Harry’s room that night, his stomach is in knots. He’s confused and unsure of everything right now and isn’t sure if he can spend another night with this guy. He sucks in a breath before knocking on the door and Harry answers it within two seconds. 

“Hey, stranger,” Harry gives him a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, hi, why am I here, exactly?” Louis asks, crossing his arms.

“Come inside, yeah?” Harry suggests, opening the door wider and gesturing inside. Louis lets his arms down and walks in and faces Harry. Harry closes the door and looks back at Louis. “Something wrong?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, what the hell? Are you trying to put me out of business or something?” Louis asks, annoyed.

“Trust me, with the amount I’ve been paying, that isn’t going to happen. I’m saving your ass from dealing with pathetic old guys. I thought you’d be thankful,” Harry gives him a shrug. 

“I’m just, confused. You’re married, aren’t you?” Louis asks, raising his eyebrows and Harry scoffs.

“If I was happy in my marriage, don’t you think I’d be home instead of paying double for you?” Harry asks him. Louis stays quiet for a moment before sighing.

“Okay, yeah, I know, but…why?” Louis asks.

“You’re overthinking, love. I just want to get laid, yeah? I thought you wanted the same thing,” Harry smirks. “So, we should probably get to it.”

“You’re lucky you’re rich and hot because your social skills are poor,” Louis remarks. 

“I think it’s time you stopped talking and started taking off your clothes,” Harry announces. Louis rolls his eyes and puts his hands on his hips.

“Can’t you be a gentleman and do it for me?”

“Well, I suppose I could.”  
The taller man walks closer to him and pulls him in for a long, deep kiss. Louis so badly wants to resist it, but he’s putty in his arms. He wraps his arms around his neck as they stumble to the bed, falling onto it. Harry straddles Louis, their tongues tangling obscenely. Louis’ small hands work at unbuttoning Harry’s shirt, pushing it off his toned upper body and throwing it to the side. Harry breaks their kiss, pulling Louis’ shirt over his head and sucking a love bite on the opposite side of the one he left the night before. 

“At this rate, you’re going to have me marked like your prey,” Louis jokes, tilting his head back. 

“That’s the goal, love,” Harry replies, nipping on the skin and unzipping Louis’ jeans.

“When’s the last time you touched your wife like this?” Louis asks in a mocking voice.

“Couldn’t even tell you. She doesn’t have what you have, though.”

“And what’s that? A penis?”

“That, and a little more.”

Louis hums at that, relaxing a little. He shouldn’t be relaxed because he’s never relaxed with his clients. He’s always got to be on his toes with this job, but Harry doesn’t give off that vibe.

Harry gets Louis out of his pants quickly and lifts his legs over his shoulders. Louis looks down at him confused, but Harry just shushes him and licks a fat stripe over his swollen hole. Louis’ breath hitches, not used to this intimate gesture. It’s usually about pleasing other guy, but never about receiving pleasure himself. And this, well, yeah, he could do this. 

Harry pokes his tongue inside, stretching him open and licking inside his velvety walls. “Taste so good,” he murmurs into him, twisting his tongue all around. Louis feels lightheaded and can’t get enough oxygen but it’s all so good and he just wants moremoremore. 

Louis’ back arches and he whines loudly, his hand trailing down his tummy. He pinches at his nipples, biting on his lip and gazing down at his client. Harry laps his tongue around for a while before abruptly stopping, kissing the inside of his thigh and coming back to face Louis.

“Sounds like you were enjoying yourself,” Harry muses.

“That…okay, yeah, little bit,” Louis admits, his cheeks flushed.

Harry leans down and kisses him deeply, unbuttoning his own pants and shoving them down. He tugs at his cock a few times and slicks himself up with lube. He spreads Louis’ legs wide, crooking a lubed up finger inside of the younger boy. He opens him up quickly before slipping inside and fucking him until he’s whimpering below him. After they both hit their climax and come down from their highs, Louis quickly gets off the bed to get dressed.

“You don’t have to leave so soon, you know. Give me ten minutes and we can go for round two,” Harry winks.

“Charming, but I’m just really tired, okay? You probably have a lot of work to get done anyway and I should just get out of your hair,” Louis claims. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Lou. I pay money to be with you, you know,” Harry affirms. 

“I just have a lot to do, alright? Please,” Louis pleads, buttoning up his pants and looking at Harry, who holds his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, fine, but I’m probably going to be seeing you again tomorrow,” Harry smirks.

“As long as I get paid, I don’t care who I have to be with,” Louis snaps.

“Someone’s a bit grumpy today. Maybe you should get some sleep,” Harry notes and Louis puts his shirt on.

“That’s the plan,” he says impatiently. 

“See you tomorrow, then?”

“I guess so,” Louis mumbles, walking out of the door quickly. He lets out a long sigh and rushes off to his own room. He hops into the shower quickly and balls his hands into fists. He’s frustrated with Harry because it isn’t supposed to happen this way. He’s supposed to fuck a client, leave, and never see them again. He has no idea why this guy thinks game he’s playing it okay. He doesn’t want to continue this, but he really does need the money.  
~  
So it continues like that for a while. Louis has very few clients besides Harry. Harry buys him almost every night because the thought of Louis being with other guys angers him. It’s rare that Harry stays at home anymore because the tension between him and Emily is worse than ever, so staying at the hotel and busying himself is much easier. It doesn’t seem like she minds too much, though, so Harry lets it go.

“Harry, we need to talk,” Louis starts as he throws on his clothes. Harry makes no move to get up, just lays in bed with a sheet thrown over his bare lower half. 

“I’m listening. Come sit with me first, though,” Harry smiles, patting the bed next to him. Louis sighs and sits next to him, fully dressed now.

“Okay, I have other clients, Harry. Like, I understand that you’re young and handsome and so unlike my other clients but…it isn’t completely fair. A lot of men have been trying to get me but I’m always booked with you and…I need to keep business up. This is all I’m good at,” Louis explains, twisting his fingers together. Harry stares at him, thinking of what he should say next.

“Alright. Well, if this is about money, I can start paying you more,” Harry shrugs, rolling over and picking up his wallet from the nightstand and riffling through his cash.

“Harry, that’s not the point,” Louis begins but Harry cuts him off.

“Than what is the point, Louis? You admitted that I’m a better choice of client than anyone else and I’m offering you even more money than I was before. I’m not seeing what else I could do.”

“It’s just-you’re getting attached and I don’t do that kind of stuff,” Louis says, almost shyly. 

“Attached?” Harry says, laughing. “No, no, babe. I have a wife, don’t I? This is just sex, alright? No feelings, none of that bullshit. So, what do you say?” Harry says carefully, a fifty-dollar bill in his hand. Louis takes it slowly, pretending those words didn’t sting.

“Okay,” Louis says softly, not making eye contact.

“Okay,” Harry repeats, putting a hand on Louis’ thigh. “I was thinking, I should take you to Paris. We’ve been at this same place for as long as we’ve been doing this, and it’s getting a bit tiring. Let’s get away for a few days, go to my hotel there instead. It’s got a great view of the Eiffel Tower,” Harry grins, rubbing his thigh softly. 

“Paris? Jesus, Harry, you’re unbelievable,” Louis shakes his head.

“Maybe, but I know you want to go,” Harry smirks.

“Can you just leave like that?” Louis asks.

“Of course. Hell, I own this place. It’ll be fine, I’ll check on some stuff over there, since I haven’t been in a while. Make sure everything is running smoothly without me.”

“When do you plan to kidnap me and sweep me away to a different country?” Louis teases.  
“Let’s leave tomorrow,” Harry says casually.

“Tomorrow? Oh my god, I’m going to have to pack,” Louis exclaims, getting off the bed.

“Need some help?” Harry asks, turning on his side. 

“You pack? You don’t pay people to do that for you?” Louis mocks, walking towards the door.

“Such a mouth on you. Don’t think I won’t spank you for that,” Harry warns.

“Don’t think I don’t want you to spank me,” Louis smirks, glancing at him over his shoulder before leaving the room. Harry watches his swaying hips and grins up at the ceiling when the door closes. 

The next morning, Harry goes to Louis’ room, like the gentleman he is, and knocks on the door. Louis opens it with bed hair and a pair of sweats. “Jesus, you’re early. I look like shit and I need to get ready. Can you just wait outside for five minutes and-“ Louis rambles, but Harry cuts him off with a short kiss.

“Sometimes, you really need to just stop talking,” he murmurs. “You look fine, babe. Beautiful, even,” Harry informs him but Louis just huffs.

“Just, come inside, okay? Let me put some real clothes on and we can go,” he says, letting Harry walk in and gets changed into a pair of sinfully tight trousers and a maroon t-shirt, hanging low off of his collarbones. 

“Perfect. Let me take your bag, the car is already waiting for us,” Harry says, taking his small bag from the bed and kissing the top of his head. Somewhere in their time together, things have gotten more intimate, but neither will confront the other. This is just about sex, Harry said it himself. They just had this discussion last night, but he still does these sweet things that confuse Louis further. 

Harry puts his hand on the small of Louis’ back and leads him down to the lobby and out to the car, putting his bag in the trunk and putting his arm around Louis in the back seat. 

“It’s only about a fifteen minute drive to the airport, so we should be there soon,” Harry tells him, rubbing his hand up and down Louis’ bicep. Louis hums in response, leaning into Harry further.

“Never been on a plane before,” Louis says softly, putting his hand on Harry’s thigh.

“This isn’t just a plane, though. Private jet my dad had,” Harry grins and Louis almost laughs. This was some sort of weird book; it had to be, because this couldn’t be real life anymore.

“You’re absolutely mental,” Louis shakes his head.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Harry replies easily. 

Louis can’t help but feel tightness in his stomach as they walk inside, but Harry keeps a reassuring hand on his back and leads him inside. They sit down next to each other, and for the firs time, Harry intertwines their hands together and gives it a squeeze. 

“Don’t be nervous, it’s fun and we can always get your mind off of it if you want,” Harry murmurs in his ear, sneaking his hand up his thigh. Louis shivers and looks at Harry, giving him a naughty smirk. 

“Really, Mr. Styles? In your father’s private jet? You’re filthy,” Louis says darkly. Harry just grins, leaning over and kissing him deeply. 

“Wait until we get to the hotel,” Harry whispers in his ear, nipping at his neck. Louis bites his lip and grins devilishly. 

“You have plans, I presume?” Louis asks. 

“Maybe a few, we’ll see,” Harry grins. 

Naturally, Louis ends up jerking Harry off into an orgasm, right into the palm of his hand and licks it off obscenely, smirking at the older man. Harry groans in response, pulling him in for a kiss and licking the taste right out of his mouth. 

“I think you’re the filthy one here,” Harry decides, kissing him again.

“Or you’re just rubbing off on me,” Louis challenges with a grin. 

“Mm, you know I love rubbing off on you,” Harry says lowly, and Louis giggles.

“Cheeky bastard, always.”

When they arrive at the hotel, Louis is clearly impressed. All of Harry’s hotels are beautiful, but maybe it was the Paris air making this one even better than the one in London. Didn’t people call this place the City of Love or something?

Harry, being the gentlemen he is, takes up their bags and leads them to their room, which is the top floor with the best view of the Eiffel Tower. Harry figures that if he’s doing all of this, he might as well do it right. Louis gasps when he enters the large room, rushing over to the window and seeing the incredible view.

“What do you think?” Harry asks, walking over and putting his hands on his hips.

“This is…amazing, Harry, really. Thank you, you didn’t have to do all of this,” Louis says softly, turning in his arms and looking up at him.

“I know, but I wanted to,” Harry says softly, leaning down and kissing him. Louis hates how intimate this is beginning to feel, so he breaks the kiss and moves away from Harry’s grasp. He tries not to make it suspicious, so he sprawls himself out on the bed and gives him a seductive glare.

“So, I think we came here to fuck, am I wrong?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not wrong. But room service should be coming soon and if I answer the door sweaty and naked, it may look very unprofessional,” Harry explains, crossing the room to get lube out of his bag and placing it on the nightstand. 

“Room service, hmm? Fancy,” Louis jokes, turning on his stomach and putting his chin in his hand.

“You’re quite high end, though. Need to keep you satisfied,” Harry murmurs, leaning in to kiss him again, but Louis moves away from it. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just, why are you spending all this money on me anyway? I’m just the escort you’ve been fucking behind your wife’s back. I just don’t see the point in it, that’s all. Shouldn’t you be spending money on her?” Louis asks, his voice slightly bitter on the last word.

“Lou,” Harry almost laughs. “Like I’ve said before, if Emily and I were happy, I wouldn’t need you, okay? I’ve given her plenty and she’s never happy, so I’m not wasting my time anymore.”

“Then why stay with her?” Louis snaps.

“Because she’s my wife,” Harry answers, as if that makes any sense.

“There’s honestly no talking to you,” Louis mutters.

“I’m just being honest with you. And since we’re being honest, I didn’t take you here to talk about my bloody wife, I came here to fuck. This isn’t the time to be talking about feelings and all of that shit that I absolutely hate. So how about you prep yourself while we wait for room service?”

Louis bites his tongue from saying anything further, and grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand. He gets up and starts walking to the bathroom, but Harry calls after him.

“Why are you doing it in there?” 

“Wouldn’t be fair if I was naked and you weren’t when room service comes in, don’t you agree?” Louis says harshly, disappearing into the bathroom. He looks at himself in the mirror and sighs, already tired of the day. It’s amazing being in Paris, of course, but Harry wouldn’t be his ideal person to take. It isn’t that he doesn’t like Harry, he’s just a bit afraid of this whole situation. He’s afraid of the attachment and the dependency and Louis hates it. 

While he’s in the bathroom, he opens himself up and preps himself for Harry so he won’t have to waste time on it later. He throws on his underwear afterwards and saunters back into the room to see there’s a bottle of champagne and a bowl of strawberries sitting on the bed with Harry. Louis quirks an eyebrow and looks at Harry for answers.

“Thought it would be romantic,” Harry winks, and Louis wants to throw himself out the window. Harry’s the most complicated person on the face of the earth. One minute he doesn’t want anything but sex, and the next he’s being this sweet romantic man.

“I’m assuming your plans for these things are more than innocent,” Louis presumes. 

“You know my well, then,” Harry smirks. “We’re going to celebrate.”

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

“Us being together in Paris away from the bullshit, at least for a little while.”

Louis takes the answer without questions, because this is a pretty amazing thing. He’s glad they get to be away from everything and just have a few days to fuck it out. He sits on the bed next to Harry, who pops open the bottle and pours it into two glasses. He drops a strawberry into each one and hands a glass over to Louis.

“To us,” Harry murmurs. Louis smiles softly, taking the glass.

“To us,” he agrees. They clink and drink at the same time. They kiss in a haze of champagne covered mouths and soft pillows. It all feels too intimate for a while, so Louis changes it. He bites down on Harry’s bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth and growling out a “fuck me” between them. So, Harry takes it as a challenge. He tosses all of their clothes to the floor and gets Louis on his hands and knees. He grabs a strawberry and feeds it to him, and Louis is sure to bite down seductively. 

“You know,” Harry murmurs, running a hand down the large curve of Louis’ spine. “I like this position on you. Can’t see your smart mouth from here but I can everything else I need.”

“Don’t worry, you can still hear my smart mouth. All that matters,” Louis quips after swallowing the strawberry and sways his hips a little. 

Harry simply hums in response. He grabs the champagne bottle and pours some right onto the dip of his back. Louis slightly shivers at its cold temperature, completely unsure of what Harry’s doing. The champagne stays in place, only wavering slightly. Harry leans down to suck it all up and lick him clean.

“Mm, amazing,” Harry hums, trailing his palm down his thigh. Louis stays quiet, wanting to see what Harry’s next move.

Harry pours a little more right down his spine, watching it cascade down each vertebra of his spine and pools at the dip of his back again. Louis stays impossibly still, almost like he’s trying to prove a point. I’m sure his wife doesn’t have a body capable of this, Louis thinks. 

“Look gorgeous like this,” Harry murmurs, leaning down and licking him clean again. His back is slightly sticky but he doesn’t mind at all. Louis turns onto his back, spreading his legs to let Harry between them and looks up at Harry from beneath his thick, long eyelashes. He takes the bottle into his own hands, pouring the bubbly drink down his collarbones and lets it trickle down his nipples and over his small tummy. Harry watches him and his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth. 

Neither of them speaks; no snarky comments are sly remarks, it was just them, and it was nice. Louis stares at Harry expectantly, waiting for him to move further. Harry smiles soft at him, leaning down and holding Louis’ thighs. His tongue dives down and he licks all over Louis’ dripping chest and stomach. Louis hums in appreciation, watching his tongue swirl around and his lips suck at the skin gently. And if his mouth happens to finds a little extra time for his nipples, so be it. 

“You look pretty naked. All the time, really,” Harry murmurs, way too honest for Louis’ liking. Louis notices the champagne bottle is almost empty, so he tosses his head back and swallows the rest. Harry stares up at him, so Louis makes it into a show.

He forces the neck of the bottle into his mouth, giving the illusion of sucking a dick. Harry groans at that, his grip on Louis’ thighs tightening. Louis twists his head and makes a whole presentation of showing off and getting Harry as riled up as he can. 

“Jesus, Louis, look like a proper slut. Why do you get such pleasure out of teasing me?” 

Louis just giggles at the, pulling the bottle out of his mouth with an exaggerated pop and gives Harry a grin. “Going to do something about it?”

“I’m going to have to.”

Harry takes the empty bottle from Louis and pushes his legs back forcefully. He grabs the bottle of lube he put on the nightstand earlier and opens it up. Louis stares down at him and quirks an eyebrow. 

“I already took care of that, what are you doing?”

Harry simply smirks up at him and gives him a wink. He slicks up the neck of the champagne bottle with lube and coats it fully. Louis’ breath hitches, finally understand what he’s doing. He’s confused and nervous and doesn’t know what’s even happening but he’s definitely intrigued. 

Harry circles his thumb around Louis’ stretched open hole and pushes in gently, earning a hum of approval in return. He removes it just as quickly, and replaces it with the tip of the champagne bottle. Louis gasps at the weird feeling of the cool glass, but it doesn’t hurt, so he doesn’t say anything. They came up with a safe word a while ago, just in case, which he has yet to use and doubts tonight will be the night.

“Cheeky bastard,” Louis says, Harry pushing it in gently and watching it disappear. 

“You love it,” Harry retorts with a smirk. “Look at you, just taking it. You’re a slut for anything up your arse, aren’t you?”

Louis would protest but really, he can’t argue. He may be snarky and sarcastic but he isn’t a liar, so. 

Harry pushes the entire neck in as far as he can, twisting it inside. Honestly, Louis wishes it was Harry’s dick but hey, it’ll suffice and if it gets Harry of, so be it. His cock is still painfully hard and leaking precome and he wants Harry so badly it nearly hurts. 

“C’mon, Haz, enough teasing,” Louis breathes, his stomach muscles flexing. “I want your fat cock.” Louis knows Harry so well now, knows exactly what he likes to hear and how to rile him up and how to get exactly what he wants. He knows he’s got Harry wrapped around his little finger right now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Mm, is that so? What to you want me to do, baby?”

“I want you to ruin me, Harry. Ruin my little asshole and come inside me and make me scream so loud they call the front desk and complain,” Louis says lowly, squeezing Harry’s hip and pressing his thumb into the bone jutting out. He sees a flicker in Harry’s eyes and there it is, Harry is definitely gone. Louis bites the inside of his cheek to try not to smile smugly about it.

Harry doesn’t say anything to that, simply twists the bottle a few more times, earning a few moans from Louis. He yanks it out and puts it to Louis’ lips while slicking his cock up with lube. Louis takes it and tastes himself on the glass, flicking his eyes seductively at Harry, who just growls low in his throat. He pulls the bottle away and receives a pouting Louis, spreading his legs wider to let Harry in. 

“C’mon and fuck me, baby. Been waiting for you,” Louis purrs, knowing damn well what he’s capable of. Harry complies without hesitation, becoming putty while Louis gets like this. He hovers over him and presses his bare cock inside of him. Louis’ jaw falls open, his back arching off of the mattress and he grips the sheets below him. And maybe, sometimes, he likes to act more into than he really is just for the sake of getting Harry worked up, but today doesn’t really feel like one of those days. He blames the Paris air.

Harry presses in slowly, scratching his nails down Louis’ thick thighs and leaning over to kiss Louis. Louis melts into easily, holding his shoulders and folding into his touches. Louis secretly loves this, when they’re tangled up and kissing lazily with Harry buried inside of him. Everything seems to be less complicated this way and it’s easy and Louis likes it more than he’ll admit.

Harry presses in all the way, holding himself there and nipping at Louis’ bottom lip. Louis shivers as he feels his thick pulsing cock inside of him, just ready to do damage. 

“Don’t hold out on me, baby. Go on and fuck me. Destroy me,” Louis instructs lowly, dragging his lips against Harry’s jawline, biting is softly then licking over it. Harry hums, pinching his thighs before pulling out and thrusting back in roughly. He’s quick to find a rhythm and Louis shakes underneath him, trembling with the force of it. It seems each time they fuck, it gets just a little rougher, like Harry’s on a mission.

Louis’ nails claw at Harry’s shoulder and back, his head thrown back and his face scrunched up in a mix of pain and pleasure. Harry’s never been so rough with his movements before, slamming in and abusing his prostate. Nonetheless, Louis’ cock is curved heavily on his stomach and he can feel the sweat in his hair. Louis opens his eyes to look at Harry, and he whimpers at the sight. Harry’s eyes are dark and glazed over, the veins in his neck bulging out and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

With every thrust, Louis lets out a sob of pleasure and grips Harry’s shoulders a little tighter. His vision is starting to get hazy and his body is tensing and he can feel the heat building in his stomach. 

“Gonna come?” Harry asks shortly, already feeling his walls clench. Harry wants to come himself but won’t let it happen until Louis has first. 

“Y-yeah,” Louis chokes brokenly. With a few more hard slams to his prostate, he’s crying out Harry’s name and letting out a long scream, coming all over their torsos. Harry finishes off not long after, riding out his orgasm and staying seated for a little too long. He finally pulls out, lying on his back and he stays quiet. Louis bites his lip, unsure of why it got so awkward and tense. He turns his back to Harry and pretends to sleep, hoping Harry will take the hint. Within minutes, Harry is lightly snoring behind him and Louis sighs in relief.

He gets out of bed gently, trying not to wake Harry up. He puts on Harry’s button down shirt that falls down to his thighs and his boxers. He heads outside to the balcony and sits down on one of the chairs, looking at the view in front of him. 

It’s absolutely gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as Harry, Louis thinks. God, his brain is full of images are Harry all the fucking time and he can’t stand it. Harry was just a client for so long and somewhere the lines blurred and now here he is in goddamn Paris with him with champagne (okay, that wasn’t exactly romantic and innocent, but) and stupid satin sheets and his body is heavy and tired and he just wants to curl into Harry’s strong arms and listen to him breathe until he falls asleep and he can’t. He can feel his breathing get heavier, like it always does when he’s close to crying, but he refuses to let himself cry while staring at the Eifel Tower. That just isn’t allowed.

Thankfully, his thoughts turn into static and he falls asleep soon, his body too exhausted to stay functioning any longer.  
~  
Louis really hates when Harry buys him things; it makes him feel cheap and used, which he is, basically, but he doesn’t need to be reminded. Now, if Louis and Harry were dating, it would be a different story, but Harry is still very much married and Louis is still very much alone. He’s constantly bothered by the thought of having Harry all to himself, but he still sleeps alone most nights and there’s no cuddling, no sweet kisses, just rough fucking, power naps, and empty rooms.

Now, they’re in their normal hotel room, and Harry tosses him a box, not wrapped, no bow, just a box. Louis knows if it were to be decorated, it would make the gift meaningful, but this way, it’s just another way of Harry claiming Louis as his, but not emotionally. It kind of makes Louis want to cry.

“What is this?” Louis asks, fingering the box.

“Just open it and see,” Harry instructs. He places a bag on the bed as well, decorated only because of the store brand. Louis sighs and opens the box to find a brand new watch, definitely real gold. His heart pounds and he glares at Harry.

“So you’re going to just keep doing this? Buying me things and paying me and that’s it?” Louis asks harshly.

“Well, yeah, we talked about that already, Louis. This is just sex, isn’t it? I’m married and I’m just trying to keep you happy,” Harry explains nonchalantly. Louis kind of wants to rip his throat out. 

He huffs dramatically, putting the box on the nightstand and grabbing the bag. The first thing he finds is a small bag of make up; eyeliner, mascara, and red lipstick. Louis shifts, not daring to look up at Harry just yet. He fishes into the back again and pulls out a red and black corset with a pair of matching lace panties. Louis swallows, his cock fattening up already. He looks up at Harry, who’s just smirking. 

“Gonna go put that on, then?”

“Erm, yeah,” Louis nods, standing up and taking the stuff with him to the bathroom. He stares at the stuff in front of him for a few moments. He never would have thought this was a thing for Harry, or himself, really, but now that his cock is uncomfortably stiff from just the thought, so, yeah.

He picks up the corset first and ties it off in the front before twist it around. It’s tight and Louis knows how good he looks in it. The panties come next, his ass poking out and his cock constricted, the tip peering out teasingly. He applies all of the make up Harry bought for him, his eyes shining bright blue through the smoky black and his lips looking plumper with the lipstick. When he’s satisfied, he opens the door and finds Harry sitting on the edge of the bed. Louis saunters over to him, swaying his hips dramatically.

“So,” Louis starts, putting one of his bare legs on Harry’s thigh. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Harry murmurs, putting his hands on Louis’ waist. “I really want to fuck you.”

“Mm, I think that sounds like a good idea.”

Louis straddles Harry’s waist and pushes them down on the bed, unbuttoning Harry’s shirt. He gives filthy glances up to Harry every so often, showing off his black-rimmed eyes. Harry’s hands play with Louis’ ass, kneading it and testing the material of his little lace panties. 

“Gonna suck your cock,” Louis murmurs, pushing his shirt off of his broad shoulders. Harry helps him get it off and lays his head back down on his pillow.

“Yeah? Gonna let me come on your pretty face, baby? You want that?” Harry asks roughly. Louis nods, yanking Harry’s fly open and quickly getting him out of his pants. His thick cock slaps against his strong abdomen and Louis takes it quickly into his hand, pumping him a few times before putting his red lips around the tip. He closes his eyes and lets his elongated eyelashes splay across his cheeks, taking Harry into his mouth slowly.

“Yeah, baby. Look like a proper slut, y’know, only my slut now. You’re my bitch, right, baby?” Harry says, his voice lower and rougher than usual. Louis simply hums around him in response. “Take my cock. Choke on it.”

Louis complies, forcing his large member down his throat and manages not to gag; experience, he assumes. He nuzzles his nose into his pubes and runs his thumb over his balls. Harry grips his hair, yanking at it tightly and starts thrusting into Louis’ mouth. Louis sputters slightly, gripping onto Harry’s hips for balance. 

“You’d let anyone fuck your mouth, wouldn’t you? Such a fucking whore, letting other guys fuck you. You don’t fuck anyone except for me anymore though, because you’re my whore. No one else’s,” Harry growls. Louis can feel the tears drip down his cheeks, probably messing up his make up completely. 

He swallows around Harry, deep throating him and pulling out all kinds of noises from Harry. Harry is still tugging his hair roughly, saying the filthiest things without filter. Soon enough, Harry is groaning and pulling Louis off of him. 

“Gonan come all over your face,” he says lowly, sitting up on his elbows and pumping his cock roughly. He holds Louis’ face there, the tip pressed to his cheeks, which are stained with black streaks already. 

Harry grits his teeth and moans loudly, shooting white ribbons all over Louis’ cheekbones, eyelashes, and lips. Louis waits until he’s finished, then licks the shiny head of Harry’s cock, cleaning him off. Harry drags his fingers across the come on Louis’ face and feeds them to Louis, letting him suck it off.

“Good slut,” Harry spits, pulling him up and pushing him onto his hands and knees. Louis doesn’t say anything; just lets Harry do what he wants. Lately, he’s become more submissive in terms of talking. He never makes any remarks anymore, just lets Harry get it out of his system. 

Harry yanks Louis’ panties down just enough to let his hole show. He grabs the lube and pours it into his fingers, roughly shoving two in and twisting them. Louis gasps at how sudden it happens, grabbing a pillow from beneath him and holding it tight. Harry’s fingers are only there briefly before it’s replaced with the tip of his cock breaching him. Louis squeaks, knowing he wasn’t prepped enough and he’s half surprised Harry is already hard again.

“H-Harry,” Louis stutters, holding still. “I-I need more prep.”

“Let it hurt,” Harry spits. Louis whimpers and nods, not arguing any further. Harry thrusts in fast, bottoming out quickly. Louis buries his face in the pillow, letting out a sob. Harry squeezes his hip tightly with his left hand, definitely hard enough to bruise, and grips his hair with his right hand. He yanks his head back, pulling tightly and slamming his hips quickly.

“Fucking bitch, Louis. Letting men fuck you all the time and getting paid for it,” Harry growls, yanking his head back further. Louis can feel his cock slam his prostate over and over, his body moving forward with every hard thrust. 

“Harry,” Louis sobs, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. It all feels so good and hurts so bad and it’s so much. He can hear and feel Harry’s heavy balls smacking his cheeks hard and the squelching noise with every thrust. Harry simply pulls his hair tighter, so tight Louis thinks he may have a bald patch there by the end of the night. 

“You’re mine,” Harry grunts between thrusts. “Understood?”

Louis tries to nod, but the constricting hand pulling his head back doesn’t allow it. “Yes, yours. Yours, Harry.”

“Good,” Harry growls, dropping his hair. Louis’ head falls onto the pillow in front of him, hiding his face in it and sobbing. If it was possibly for his prostate to bruise, he’s pretty sure it would be with the way Harry has him.

“I, ah, think I’m close,” Louis whimpers, biting his lip roughly. “Oh, god.”

Harry grips Louis’ cheeks roughly, pulling them apart and watching his fat cock disappear inside. He leaves a stinging slap on his right cheek, then another on the left. Louis gasps, his thighs starting to tremble. 

“Harry, oh my god, Harry,” Louis moans, his voice wrecked. Harry’s hand runs across the length of the corset, feeling the ties of it. No one in their right mind could deny Louis doesn’t look absolutely fuckable, and he’s glad he’s the one who gets the privilege. 

With a few more rough thrusts, Louis is muffling a scream into a pillow and coming hard, shuddering the whole way through it. Harry isn’t far behind, bending over and biting into Louis’ shoulder blade before dumping inside of Louis’ spent body. They pant for a few moments before Harry pulls out carefully. He rolls Louis onto his back and he leans against the headboard, looking up at Harry.

“Was I okay?” Louis asks with a raspy voice. Harry wants to cry because now he’s asking. His face is stained of make up, with black streaks on his cheeks and lipstick all over. Harry notices the pillowcase is completely stained with tears and make up from where Louis was crying into it, and there’s a tug on Harry’s heart. 

“You were wonderful, baby,” Harry murmurs, leaning down and kissing Louis’ forehead. “Are you alright? Was it too much?”

“No, no. I’m fine,” Louis smiles softly. He pulls Harry down to let him sit between his legs and lay his head on Louis’ stomach. His fingers card through his sweaty curls, and they should really shower, but Louis can’t think of moving from this spot right now. They’ve never cuddled before, but after that, Louis needs a good cuddle, deserves it even. Harry has to be more than a client by now, right? Christ, Harry’s his only client. 

They’re quiet for a while, Louis playing with Harry’s hair and Harry lying quietly on Louis’ stomach. Louis’ exhausted, his body heavy with the desperation to sleep, but he can’t miss an opportunity like this. He’s got Harry wrapped in his legs and he doesn’t want to go anywhere. 

“Hey,” Louis whispers, breaking the silence. “Do you ever think our lives are planned out for us already? Like, we each have a fate already mapped out and we’re just following it?”

Harry is quiet for a moment, but Louis knows he’s not asleep yet because his fingers are drumming on Louis’ hips. “Well,” Harry whispers back. “I think some people are destined to meet, and that’s all up to fate. But what they do with that person is up to them, even if they’re your soul mate, you might not end up together. Our actions make a difference, I think.”

Louis thinks about the response for a minute, wondering if he’s relating it to them or if he’s just making a general statement. His fingers curl around a piece of hair and he sighs. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Do you think we were destined to meet? For whatever reason?” Louis asks, his voice so quiet he isn’t sure Harry even hears him. He does.

“Yeah, I think so. Someone up there is testing us or something,” Harry answers softly, kissing Louis’ collarbone. Louis hums at that, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, assuming the conversation is over, but Harry speaks again.

“Hey, what’s your favorite color?” 

“What?” Louis opens his eyes and looks down at Harry like he grew another eyeball in the middle of his face. 

“I was just thinking. We’ve been fucking for almost six months and I don’t even know what you’re favorite color is,” Harry shrugs.

“Yes, but you do know my weak spots and favorite positions in bed. Far more intimate than a favorite color,” Louis winks, giggling.

“Seriously, Lou. I want to know,” Harry grins, nuzzling his nose against Louis’ throat. Louis takes a shuddering breath at that, with Harry’s hot breath on his skin.

“Blue, I reckon,” Louis states.

“Blue looks good on you. I’ll keep it in mind,” Harry smiles, pinching his side. 

“It’s only fair if I get to know your favorite color now,” Louis says impatiently.

“Guess.”

Louis sighs exasperatedly. “I’m going to have to say red, just because that’s what color you made me wear.”

“Very observant.”

“I know you well, Styles.”

“Probably not as well as I want you to, though.”

Louis takes a second to think about that, has no idea what that even means. God, Harry’s so annoyingly complex and he’s too tired to analyze. 

“What is that suppose to mean?” Louis asks after a moment, frustrated with the blank response in his head. But of course, Harry is snoring lightly against his tummy already, and Louis rolls his eyes but smiles so fondly it hurts.

He stays up late that night, watching Harry sleep soundly on top of him. His leg fell asleep a while ago from Harry’s weight rest on it, but doesn’t mind much because Harry is cuddling with him and he’s wanted this for longer than he’ll admit. His hand never stops playing with Harry’s curls, and he desperately wants the both of them to shower, but pushes that thought to the back of his mind. He falls asleep that night with Harry on top of him and nothing is better than that.  
~  
He wakes up that morning in an empty, cold bed. He furrows his eyebrows, searching for anything Harry, but can’t seem to find any clues he’s still there. The shower isn’t running and all of his stuff is gone. Louis wants to be angry, but decides he needs to shower first and try to calm down. Maybe Harry went to get something or there was an emergency, so he decides to give him time to get back before he gets too angry. 

The shower feels so good on his sticky skin, and Louis looks down at the blue and purple spots left by Harry. They hurt, but they’re a reminder of Harry, and how he claimed him. But, Harry left him this morning, Louis decides in the shower. Harry left him. They finally cuddle and have fucking pillow talk, and Harry runs out because Harry is good at running away from his problems. Louis knows that’s exactly what happened, and he begins crying and screaming in the shower. Harry left him.

He gets out of the shower quickly, throwing on a t-shirt and his boxers and that’s when he sees Harry’s wedding ring sitting on the nightstand, the symbol of his unfaithful marriage with Emily. He grabs it and takes it to the bathroom, throwing it in the toilet and flushing it down without a moment’s hesitation.

“You cheating fucking bastard,” Louis spits at the toilet as though it’s Harry. “You’re disgusting! Fuck, I hope she divorces your pathetic ass! Better yet, I hope she kills you for what you did to her and I. You’re so fucking hard to please and you’re selfish. You’re a fucking selfish bastard!” 

Louis is screaming at a toilet with tears rushing down his cheeks that he doesn’t even bother wiping. He lets out a strangled scream and goes back to the bedroom, picking up the gold watch Harry had given him the night before. 

“Buying me off isn’t going to make me love you!” Louis cries, throwing the watch against the wall and watching the face of it shatter to pieces. “So why do I still love you?!”

Louis is sobbing, snot dripping from his nose and his body trembling. “Your stupid fucking hotel,” he mumbles, throwing the lamp onto the ground. “You think you’re so amazing, such a successful person. You’re a bastard, Harry Styles!”

He grabs the duvet off of the bed, dragging it on the floor and bringing it into the bathroom. He stuffs it into the toilet and flushes it seven times, the water overflowing. And for good measure, he pisses on it. 

After destroying most of the room, Louis feels exhausted. His sobs have turned into whimpers and he sits on the bed, taking in ragged breaths. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this shitty life, but he hates it more than anything. He isn’t sure what happens after, it’s just a large blur of tears and sobs and white-hot rage. 

The sun is setting outside and Louis is curled up in bed, staring at the wall in front of him. He hasn’t left the room nor has he eaten anything at all. He just wants to die, right here. Maybe he can haunt Harry if he dies, haunt all of his hotels and run him out of business. Maybe he can suffer just as much as Louis is right now. 

He sits up quickly when he hears the door opening, wiping his eyes quickly and trying to see through his bleary vision. 

“Lou?” Harry’s voice calls lowly into the dark room, shutting the door behind him. Louis jumps off of the bed and storms over to Harry.

“What do you want? Are you here to break it off with me officially now? Tell me ‘this has been fun, you’re a great fuck, but I love my wife. Surprise!’ because if you are, get out. I don’t want to hear it. Jesus Christ, Harry! I can’t believe the one time we finally get close enough to talk and be real people, you fucking leave the next morning without a word! You’re such a coward! A fucking coward! I can’t believe I ever fell for you!” Louis is screaming, his face is red and tears are pouring from his eyes. Harry is watching him carefully, and if Louis is correct, he can see a hint of sadness and fear in his eyes. “You made me feel, Harry! No one has ever done that before. I was almost convinced I was heartless all together, that’s why this shit job was so easy for me. I never worried about feelings and I’ve never loved anyone before and now you have me crying and screaming alone in a fucking hotel room.”

Harry takes a deep breath and takes off his shirt, revealing two large birds inked on his chest. They’re flying towards each other and Louis makes a face. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harry. What in god’s name are those? They look horrendous!” Louis shouts. 

“I left her,” Harry speaks calmly. 

“You what?” Louis asks, his heart stopping for a moment. 

“Did it this morning. That’s why I left. It took longer than I would have liked, if I’m honest, but it’s over and it’s all okay,” Harry smiles softly. Louis stares blankly at him, incapable of moving. 

“Why?” he asks dumbly, not able to form a real sentence. Who the fuck cares, Louis’ conscience shouts at him, he left her and now he can be yours.

“For you. I love you, Louis,” Harry says simply. The calmness in his voice makes Louis shiver. He’s serious, somehow. 

“Hold on, wait a second, what?” stop asking him questions, idiot. He just fucking said he loves you. You should be letting him fuck you right about now. 

“Louis,” Harry laughs, moving towards him and putting his hands on his waist. “I said I love you. I mean it. I kept telling myself I didn’t and this was just sex but it’s not. I don’t think it ever was, to be honest. And then you started talking about fate last night and yeah, we were definitely suppose to cross paths and I couldn’t wait any longer and I had to tell Emily before I could do this. So, yeah. I really fucking love you, Louis. Even when you’re snarky and sarcastic.”

“Oh my god,” Louis mutters, his eyes glued to Harry’s. “I never thought I’d have to actually have this discussion with you. I was hoping I would die before this happened.”

“Are you trying to tell me you love me back?”

“Yes. Thank you for doing it for me.”

“Say it. Tell me you love me,” Harry smiles, poking his cheek.

“But you already said it for me,” Louis pouts. “Don’t make me say it.”

“C’mon, say it or else you don’t mean it.”

“Fine. Harry Styles, you stupid, stupid twat, I love you. Are you happy? That was incredibly painful for me to say. I may drop dead now because of you.”

Harry shuts him up with a kiss, which Louis smiles into, wrapping his arms around his neck. Harry pulls him close, holds him carefully and that’s it, Louis can tell this is what love feels like. This connection he feels with Harry has to be love, and maybe it won’t be so bad.

When they pull back, Louis’ hands move to the tattoos. “Can you explain these ugly things now?”

“They’re supposed to be us, actually,” Harry speaks softly, his voice slow. “This one is you. It’s a little smaller and has an arched eyebrow like you. This other one is me. They’re lovebirds, flying to each other. I figured if I got something so permanent it would show you I’m serious and I’m in this for the long haul.”

Louis doesn’t speak, just wraps his arms around Harry’s wait and holds him close. He puts his head over Harry’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Harry holds him back, rubbing his back.

“Harry?” Louis says softly, clinging tighter to his tall frame.

“Mm?” Harry hums.

“I flushed your wedding ring down the toilet,” his voice is guilty, but Harry smiles and squeezes him.

“’S alright. Not going to be needing it anymore,” Harry soothes, kissing the top of his head.

“Harry?”

“Yes, Louis?”

“I broke the watch you got me.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“And Harry?”

“What, Louis?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Always.”  
~  
Harry basically forces Louis into moving in with him, telling him living in a hotel isn’t going to cut it anymore. Louis said it was far too domestic if they lived together, but when Harry cooked him a proper meal and drew him a hot bath with bubbles, Louis didn’t mind so much. Emily got the house in the divorce settlement, but Harry bought another one in London for the two of them and Louis really loved the garden they had in the backyard. 

“Babe,” Louis moans into Harry’s mouth, twirling his tongue around Harry’s. 

“What, baby? Want something?” Harry asks, his waist wrapped up in Louis’ legs. 

“Just you,” Louis smiles softly at him, biting his lip. 

“I can give you that,” Harry promises, kissing his neck. He pulls his shirt off, mouthing at his sharp collarbones. “Never get tired of your body.”

“God, I would hope not,” Louis grins, tightening his legs. 

Harry kisses down his torso, until he reaches his hipbone. He notices black ink, similar to his tattoos. He moves his head back and sees a small H inked onto his left hipbone. He stares up at Louis, his face soft.

“What is this?” he asks gently, the pad of his thumb running over the H. 

“It’s…my new tattoo. I got it for you,” Louis whispers, holding his breath.

“Oh, Louis. I thought you hated tattoos?”

Louis laughs at that, running his hands through Harry’s hair.

“Yeah, I kinda do. But this was for you, and you did it for me so I figured this was important. It’s in an intimate place and it’s nice and simple. Do you like it?” Louis asks timidly, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Baby, I love it. It’s perfect, like you,” Harry smiles, kissing over it softly. 

“I love you,” Louis smiles. 

“I love when you say it,” Harry murmurs. “Sounds nice.”

“Mm, I love saying it.”

“I hope you never stop.”

“No, never.”


End file.
